GMC

Night Lights at Sunset

Our series continues.

Red Flower

Questions, Questions: Slim Thinks Hard

As requested, a drawing of the way my face feels while wondering what to draw. More to come.

Autumn Equinox

Ooh! Belated happy autumn equinox! (I confess, I'm more of a spring equinox kind do guy — longering days and shortering nights — but in my book, any major solar calendar event is a cool thing.)

DJ on Freret

DJ Tiny

We're suckers. This wandering little guy showed up on our porch Saturday afternoon. I couldn't help but bring him in. Just for a few hours until we found a neighbor-owner nearby. No dice. Okay, foster him for a few days until we find him a new home. (We've got a dog and two cats. Of course we can't have another animal.) Yeah...... no. Sarah, who normally plays hard-ball in such matters, broke down first. And I'm a soft-touch from the get-go. So. We have a new dog.

His name is DJ Tiny, a ridiculous name, one that Louise made up in a silly riff on what we would call him during his "temporary" stay, but it stuck; so "DJ Tiny" he is, "DJ" for short, (or "Tiny", and I sometimes like to call him "Biggie Smalls"). He's three months old and barely over three pounds./1 He is, as best as we can tell, Chihuahua plus somethin'-somethin'./2 He's absurd and cuddly and crushingly cute. 

Welcome to the family, DJ.

1 Sarah went to the store to buy him a harness so we could walk him. The dog harnesses were all way too big. The cat harnesses were too big. The only thing that fits him is a kitten harness.

2 We're not "small dog people", but he's not the least bit yippy, doesn't have that uber-hyper demeanor some little dogs have. He's more like an incredibly goofy cat.

Questions, Questions

I don't know what to draw. What should I draw?

Night Lights and Evening Clouds

Sixties Girl

For a school project, Louise had to dress up like she was from the early sixties. This was the result. Hilarious.

Fifteen Years

As of today, the Lady and I have been married fifteen years (and together nearly twenty-three). I consider that a might fine thing. Woot! Woot!

Lil' miss Poet: The Weaver's Tree

I'm allowed to occasionally brag about my kids, right? So there's this Louisiana Writes contest: school kids from all across the state submit writings in various categories, many hundreds of submissions. And my Lulu, my lil' miss poet, won third place in the poetry category. The poem:

The Weaver’s Tree had been around longer than anyone could remember.
It’s glossy green leaves never darkened,
never fell to the ground in autumn.
The roots rambled over the ground.
They ran away from the trunk,
like people from a fire,
spreading in all directions.
In the spring, apples hung from the boughs of the tree
like a child clinging to the monkey bars.
They would drop, untouched,
to the soft grass of the meadow.
And the air would drip with the sickly sweet smell of rotten fruit
until the summer rain would wash it away 

Not too shabby for a twelve-year-old. I'm a proud papa.